


At the Seams

by DayenuRose



Series: Rogue/Gambit Week 2021 [1]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Irene LeBeau - Freeform, LeBeau children, Olivier LeBeau - Freeform, Parenthood, Pregnancy, Rebecca LeBeau - Freeform, Rogue/Gambit Week 2021, X-men curse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29712633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DayenuRose/pseuds/DayenuRose
Summary: Rogue and Gambit have always wanted children. They will doanythingto keep their kids safe. Unfortunately, this isn't an easy task when you're X-Men.Part of Rogue/Gambit Week 2021Day 5 – Irene, Olivier, and Rebecca
Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Rogue
Series: Rogue/Gambit Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2183634
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	At the Seams

“Rogue?”

The acrid scent of burning food assaulted Remy’s nose as he entered their apartment. He wasn’t immediately worried about the state of dinner. It wasn’t the first time he’d come home to find dinner steadily heating its way into inedibility. The reasons were usually rather innocent—Rogue had forgotten to set the timer, then became distracted by her latest book. Or, she had been busy when the timer sounded and by the time she managed to attend to dinner the now silent timer slipped her mind. Then, there were the times she tried to rush a meal she’d started later than she intended. That last one hadn’t happened for a while. Since the smoke detectors weren’t going off, he figured it couldn’t have been too long. They would salvage what they could of dinner and afterwards scrape the burned remnants from the pans.

Detouring to the kitchen, Remy turned off the oven and found a rather crispy pizza inside. The crust had gone beyond golden brown to something burgeoning on blackened—and not in the good Cajun cooking kind of way. He turned on the fan to drive out the smoke starting to waft from the oven. What he didn’t find in the kitchen was his missing wife, but, then again, that wasn’t exactly a surprise.

With the kitchen cared for, Remy continued his search. Passing through the living room he dropped his coat along the back of the couch. He already knew Rogue wasn’t there. His next stop was the guest room turned library. It was one of her favorite places to while away the hours. Remy shrugged when he found it likewise empty. Next was their bedroom—if you didn’t count checking all the rooms along the way. She had to be in the apartment somewhere. If she’d been called out on a mission, she would have left a note and turned off the oven.

Despite knowing she couldn’t have gone far, Remy frowned at the sight of their empty bedroom. While their apartment could be considered spacious by New York standards, it was still an apartment. There weren’t many places to hide. 

“Chère? ‘m home,” he called as if she could have missed him moving through the apartment. 

A slight sniffle from the master bathroom was the immediate response. It was the kind of sniffle he associated with tears, not a cold or allergies. Remy froze in place—he wasn’t expecting that greeting.

The bathroom door was closed, barring him from the sight within. He rapped on the door with his knuckles.

“Roguey?” 

At the sound of his voice, the sniffling stopped. Still, she didn’t reply. Giving her a moment to compose herself or whatever she needed to do, Remy waited. He touched the doorknob, but made no attempt to open it. The knob didn’t resist his touch, which meant she hadn’t locked it. Not that the lock would have been much of an impediment to him if there was an emergency, but it was still good to know the level of privacy she’d been expecting.

“Mon coeur, are you okay? I don’ need t’ come in, just want a sign dat you’re still conscious in there…”

The next sniffle came out as more a half-snort, half-laugh. “Come in, swamp rat.”

With a deft twist of the knob, Remy opened the door and was across the spacious bathroom before she finished the endearment. Rogue sat on the closed toilette seat with her elbows perched on her knees and her head lolled forward. The hair framing her face was damp, like she had splashed water on her face without concern about pulling back her hair. When he knelt in front of her, she looked up and offered him a wan smile which did nothing to conceal the shock in her eyes. 

“What wrong?” He clasped his hands around hers, only then realizing she was clutching something as if her life depended on it. His comprehension stalled as he tried to make sense of the plastic stick in her hands. Once his brain finally caught up with what he was seeing, Remy was certain his face reflected the same shock on hers. No wonder the oven had been left unattended.

Rogue found her voice first. She freed a hand from his hold and cupped his cheek. Gently, she tilted his face upwards so they were eye-to-eye. “You’re gonna be a papa, sug.”

“You’re pregnant.” The words fell from his lips with a reverent awe. Tears of joy gathered in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. They’d been trying for more than ten years without success. Over the last year, they’d been struggling accept the possibility it might not be in the cards for them. And now…

“Yeah…” She brushed at the fresh round of glistening tears in her own eyes. As though she needed to prove the facts, she tired to show him the pregnancy test. But, he wrapped her in a bear hug before he could see the bright pink X.

~x~x~x~x~x~

Remy had known for a couple of weeks that he was going to be a father. The news occupied his every waking thought and filled his dreams. How was it possible to be this elated and terrified at the same time? The contradicting thoughts echoed in his brain, creating a constant cacophony which made it hard to think about anything else. 

They’d both wanted this for so long and now that it was becoming a reality, Remy was panicking. His thoughts ping-ponged back and forth with such ferocity that even with his advanced reflexes he had trouble keeping up with them. _He didn’t know how to be a father. He wanted to be a father with his entire being. He was going to mess up. He would do better than his birth parents—not that that was a high bar._

Morning sickness was a misnomer. For Rogue it had become more of an all-day sickness. And there was nothing Remy could do to ease her suffering. All he had managed to do lately was get on her nerves as she snapped at him for hovering. 

Though Hank had pulled her from active duty, she still had classes to teach and regularly helped with strategy sessions for upcoming missions. When the nausea became too awful, Rogue headed home early. Remy had offered to go with her, but she’d refused. She wanted to be miserable alone for a bit. 

Watching her drive off, a knot formed in his stomach as he realized just how unsuitable their cars were. They would need to replace at least one of their vehicles. Probably his. Over the years, Rogue had spent a lot of time restoring her classic Mustang. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—ask her to give it up. While his sports car was fun to drive, it was inappropriate for chauffeuring their baby around town. They needed something with a good safety rating and a back seat. Cargo space. They would need to get a carseat. How did one go about choosing carseats? What else would they need? Was there a list? He was pretty certain babies didn’t come with instruction manuals. Even if they did, he couldn’t wait for the baby to arrive before starting to get everything ready....

As another wave of anxiety bubbled in his gut and sent his heart racing, Remy made his way to the basement of the Mansion. He would feel better if he had a chance to work the edge off his agitation. 

After changing into workout clothes and finding the Danger Room occupied, Remy headed for the gym. No one else was taking advantage of the afternoon lull to work out without an audience. With the room to himself, Remy set up a series of heavy bags across the sparring mats. Once they were in place, he began pummeling the bags with the same ferocity he usually saved for the worst of the X-Men’s foes. With every punch, kick, and slash of his bō staff, Remy attempted to pour out every fear, every doubt, every anxiety plaguing him. And it worked. Sort of. 

Forty-five minutes later, Remy was sweating from the workout and breathing hard. As long as he was moving, he’d been able to keep the majority of the overwhelming anxiety at bay, but the moment he stopped they rushed back and crowded his brain with every doubt he ever had concerning his suitability as a father. He flexed his fingers and readjusted his hold on his bō staff. Maybe another session would exhaust him to the point his thoughts would settle.

“Do you want to spar?” 

Remy spun around and pressed the end of his staff into the hollow of the intruder’s throat. He hadn’t heard anyone enter the gym, nor had he sensed the presence of another person until he spoke. A fuchsia glow illuminated Bishop’s face. The time-displaced man stood absolutely still, as if waiting for the _‘Bang, you’re dead.’_

Once the charge dissipated and Remy retracted his staff, Bishop repeated his question. “Would you like to spar?”

“Oui.” Remy followed Bishop into the sparing ring. Silently they worked together to put away the bags and when they floor was clear, they slipped into a ready stance. 

Sparring with Bishop was different than sparring with anyone else at the Mansion. Only Rogue came close. When the two men sparred, they didn’t stand on any of the formality the others usually insisted on. Instead, their fights were rough, often dirty, and always fighting for the win. In Bishop’s techniques, Remy often recognized elements of his own style slipping through. 

Remy had explained to Rogue why he like sparring with Bishop. When you’re on the streets, fighting for survival, you don’t stop to heed the niceties of a mock battle. You do you whatever necessary to come out on top. It was an instinct both Bishop and Gambit shared. Rogue understood. So, when they weren’t teaching, the couple’s sparring matches often fell into a similar ferocious, instinctual pattern. Although, particularity when they were alone, sparring with Rogue often became a form of foreplay. Of course, that was something reserved only for her.

 _Roguey and I won’t be able to spar until after the bébé is born._ Distracted by the thought, Remy allowed Bishop to get past his guard and land a hard blow to Remy’s gut. The attack knocked the wind out of him. Remy staggered back and dropped to a knee as he attempted to catch his breath. 

Warily, Bishop stepped back and examined Remy with a critical eye. It wasn’t like Remy to be downed by such a cheap shot. The time displaced man had always been able to see through Remy’s masks. He might not always know what the masks hid, but he knew when they were in place. So, it was likely that Bishop sensed Remy’s agitation. Or, he possibly suspected Remy had been replaced by a Skrull.

Remy opened his mouth to confirm his identity, when “‘m gonna be a father,” slipped out instead. 

Bishop blinked slowly. For a long moment, he studied Remy intently before adding a stoic, “Congratulations.” 

“I wasn’t suppose t’ say anything,” Remy blurted out as though he could take back his faux pas. He buried his head in his hands. Rogue was going to kill him, but it felt good to tell someone. “We’re only about two months along. Rogue didn’t want t’ spread the world while chances of miscarriage....”

“I won’t say anything,” Bishop cut off Remy’s rambling. 

“Merci,” Remy sighed. He grabbed a towel from the side of the mat and wiped his face. With the confession, the sparring match was definitely over. 

“It does explain a few things,” Bishop added after another moment. He grabbed a bottle of water and drank deeply. 

“Explain what?” Remy frowned. 

“Rogue was taken off active duty.”

“That was Roguey’s idea. She doesn’t want to do anything to put our bébé at risk.” 

Remy didn’t usually feel the need to explain their decisions to others. The others would either accepted his choices, or they didn’t. He didn’t have time to bother changing their minds, especially when their opinions tended to be already set in stone. But, like everything else since the first confession had slipped free, he couldn’t stop talking. 

There were days when it felt like there was no one in the Mansion who didn’t know about his and Rogue’s difficulties in what should be such a simple human act. Some pitied them, some thought they should just get over it, and some didn’t get what the big deal was. Their plight felt like an object of curiosity and gossip. Every time someone asked _‘Do you have children?’_ or commented _‘I bet you have kids, you’re so good with them,’_ Remy felt his heart crumble and his hope erode. He knew Rogue felt the same way. Meanwhile, each month Rogue and Remy would vacillate through a seemingly endless cycle of emotions from eager anticipation to soul crushing disappointment. 

And now, their hopes—their fondest dreams—were coming true. 

He and Roguey both believed this child to be a miracle. Why did conception happen this time and none of the other times they tried? They didn’t know, they might never know. It might never happen again and neither of them wanted to do anything to risk this opportunity. Pregnancy was risky enough for both mother and child without adding the risks of combat. 

“It is a sensible precaution.” Bishop accepted the decision without commentary. 

“T’anks.” 

“Your pup...the _baby_...it explains why you have been off your game,” Bishop added. 

“Oui.” Remy ran his hands through his shaggy, sweat dampened hair. He ached, partially from the difficult workout he’d been putting himself through before Bishop arrived and partially from punches the other man had gotten in while they sparred. “I can’t stop thinkin’. Worryin’. How am I goin’ to be un père? I don’t know how. I’ve messed up so often in my life. I can’t mess up on dis. Not dis time.”

The confession hung in the air. A heavy weight full of unspoken history. Here he was admitting his fears to the one person who knew first hand about all his inadequacies as a father.

After a long moment, Bishop cleared his throat. “You’ll do fine.” 

“How can you say dat?” Remy was flabbergasted. Bishop was never one to cut him any slack. 

“You’re not the same man who raised me.” Bishop sat heavily on the bench. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at his clasped hands. Remy recognized the thousand yard stare in the other man’s eyes. Bishop was lost in memories of the past—or, as the case might be, the future. “The Witness was hard and bitter. He had wrested control from from forces that would have eaten him alive if he showed even a sliver of weakness. He did what he had to in order to survive. And, though I hated him for it at the time, it’s what he taught me.”

“‘M sorry dat I wasn’t a good père to you.” The thought ate away at Remy’s conscience. He was right to be concerned about his suitability as a father. Before he had the chance to do things right, he already screwed things up beyond repair. If he ever had the opportunity for a do-over at that no longer existent future, Remy swore he would do better. 

If Bishop heard the apology, he didn’t acknowledge it. “The Witness, you know, he didn’t have Rogue. You do. She gives you hope. Over the years I’ve often wondered, if the Witness hadn’t lost her, how would he have been different? Would he have survived in that world?”

“Whatchya saying, homme?” Remy took a seat on a nearby bench.

This time, Bishop looked up and caught Remy in a hard stare. One Remy couldn’t look away from. “LeBeau wasn’t all bad. There was good in him, even then. And, the good parts—the parts of him which took in a couple of orphans and raised them—that’s what I see when I look at you now. The part who wanted us to be survivors, and installed that in us the only way he knew how. Every once in a while, we could see it in his eyes. He cared. But, he feared if others found out, they would take advantage of that weakness—hurt us in order to hurt him. That’s not the case now. You and Rogue will be good parents. Together. You will survive as a family and your children will be lucky to have you as a father.”

Speechless, all Remy could do was sit in stunned silence, while Bishop stood and crossed the gym towards the locker room. When he reached the door, Bishop spoke in a voice just barely loud enough Remy to hear. “I know because I was lucky to have you as mon père.”

~x~x~x~x~x~

“Roguey, do you think we should move?” Remy mused as he filled another plastic bin with books. The boxes were temporary until they could find somewhere else to store them. The spare room/library was going to become the nursery. 

“Ah thought ya liked this place.” Placing her hand on her abdomen, Rogue lightly stroked the visible baby bump. She was in her second trimester and everyone knew about the coming baby. The couple had to come home to find any peace and quiet from the myriad of congratulations and obtrusive questions. 

She sat in the glider rocking chair they’d recently purchased for the nursery. Her feet were propped up on the matching ottoman while she sorted through another stack of books, deciding which ones to keep and which ones she was ready to pass on. She kept getting distracted by the content and fell into re-reading chapters at a time. 

“Oui.” Remy nodded. This was the place he’d brought his bride home to all those years ago. Although, it was barely recognizable as the same sleek, modern apartment from his bachelor days. Back then, it was a place to sleep, a refuge away from the chaos of the school Now, it was home. Every room bore marks of his and Rogue’s life together. He didn’t want to leave, but was it an appropriate place to raise their child?

As if reading his thoughts, she grabbed one of the stuffed animals which had populated their home seemingly overnight after the announcement of her pregnancy and tossed the stuffie across the room at her husband. “Swamp rat, ya realize our baby won’t be doing much other then sleeping and eating for the first few months.” 

“Mais....”

“But nothin’ sug. Look, Ah know we still need to baby proof the place and all that, but Ah don’t want to move. This is our home. We’ve built a life here. And compared to most New York apartments, this place is positively spacious. If we ever have more kids, then we might want to consider finding a place with more room, but until then, I want to bring our baby home here—like you brought me.” 

“Vrainment?” 

“Absolutely.” She crooked her finger, beckoning him over. 

Following his wife’s command, he crossed the room to her side. She caught the front of his shirt and pulled him down so their faces were on the level. Without hesitation, she kissed him. 

“Ah love ya,” she said between kisses.

Kissing her back was more than second nature. Remy eagerly embraced his wife, deepening the kisses until they were both gasping for breath. 

No. Only he was gasping. Her mutation activated and pulled at his memories, his psyche, his powers. The border between pain and pleasure blurred as his nerve endings burned and the fire in his veins rushed into her. Every sensation in his body was alive. Instinctually, he pressed closer, wanting more of her. His fingers clasped around her arm in an attempt to hold on despite the voice in the back of his brain warned him that this was a bad idea. He ignored the sense of self-preservation telling him he need to stop. The impulse to give in to her, of wanting to be one with her, was stronger.

A shaking hand pressed against his sternum, pushing him violently away. He fell, landing hard on his backside. A nearby stack of books toppled crashing loudly across the floor. He whimpered at the loss of contact with Rogue. His eyelids grew heavy and his breathing escaped in shallow pants. With the separation, he just wanted to fade away into unconsciousness. 

“Swamp rat, don’t ya go blacking out on me.” A quiver of fear ran through his Roguey’s voice as she berated him. It was enough to keep him fighting against the lethargy. 

“Chère, I t’ink your powers are actin’ up again. Changin’,” he mumbled.

Rogue nodded. Hank was concerned that something like this might happen. Despite Rogue developing a certain level of control over her powers, much of that control was dependent on her keeping a tight hold over her emotions and her body. During pregnancy when so many things were changing in her body—things she had no control over—Hank had hypothesized her powers might be one of those changes as well. Apparently he was right. 

“Ah so sorry Remy.” Rogue pushed the glider as far back as the base would allow. With Remy still sprawled across the floor in front of her, it was as far as she could move from him. Wrapping her arms around her middle and pulling herself inward, she appeared to shrink. 

“Mon coeur.” Despite feeling weaker than a newborn foal, Remy staggered to his feet. He snatched the pillowcase from one of the pillows on the bed and wrapped it around his hand. Taking a seat on the ottoman, he leaned forward and cupped her cheek. 

“It’s okay. We’ll be fine. We knew dis might happen,” he attempted to reassure her. 

“Ah don’ want to hurt ya.” Tears glimmered in her borrowed red on black eyes. She worried at her fingers, anxiously knotting them together, as she attempted to tuck them into her long sleeves.

“We’ve been through dis before, we will make it through dis again.” With the hand not wrapped in the pillowcase, he gently traced her swollen abdomen. “Is de bébé okay?”

Her eyes, still reflecting the color of his own, widened in panic and she held her breath. Immediately her hand fell to rest on her belly near his. Remy’s stomach soured as the silence stretched to a point that he feared meant something might truly be wrong. 

Just as suddenly as the panic had flooded her face, it morphed into something akin to awe. Relief eased into the corners of the half-smile on her lips and reflected in the burn of the red in her eyes. Her shoulders relaxed and she scootched to the edge of her chair. 

“Mon coeur?” As the tension left her body, the pressure on his chest ease slightly. Oxygen trickled in and he could almost breathe again. 

“The baby moved. Just a flutter. It’s the first time Ah felt movement.” Rogue rested her head against his covered shoulder. 

Even if he possible, he didn’t need to absorb her to know the fear and anxiety which ran to the very marrow of her bones. As much as he questioned his ability to be a good father, she worried that her mutation would prevent her from being a mother. She feared she would never touch their child, that she would hurt the babe before they were even born. 

She sniffled softly as she slowly took control of her emotions. That much she could do, even if her mutation would be beyond her control for a time. “We should probably give Hank a call. He’ll want to check all three of us out.” 

Remy pressed a kiss to the top of her head where hair changed color. Though the need for caution had been limited in recent years, all the tender intimacies they had adopted for protected and covered touches instinctually came back the moment they were needed. “It will be well, mon coeur, all will be well.” 

~x~x~x~x~x~

“Here, you’ll need these.” Jubilee tossed a combo package of outlet covers, cupboard locks, and doorknob covers into the cart. Pausing for half a beat, she reached for another package. “Ah, you should probably grab two.”

Remy nodded as he followed Jubilee down the aisle of the baby store. When Jubilee suggested they come here, Remy had been dubious about the warehouse sized store. After all, how much stuff did one baby need? Now, he was beginning to think they would need at least two of everything. _How will we fit it all in our apartment?_

And, how had Jubilee learned all this stuff? Every time he learned something new about child rearing, it felt like he was learning how to fly a spaceship again—and flying was easier. Of all his expertise, preparing for a baby was not among Remy’s skills. So, he did what he always did when needed to learn something new—ask an expert. Not only was Jubilee a friend, she was the best parent he knew among the X-Men. She certainly relished the job of sharing her expertise. 

“I swear those doorknob covers will keep you out of a room almost as often as they’ll keep the kids out.” Jubilee kept up her running commentary as she moved a couple of steps down the aisle and scanned the shelves for something in particular. “Well, probably not you, but, you know, all us normal people. Hey! That’s a thought. You might want to keep them in mind next time you work on upgrading Mansion security. I swear no one will be able to enter if you cover all the door knobs with these things. But, believe me, they’re worth it once your little one starts walking...and climbing.... They’re a life saver.”

“We need all that?” He had serious doubts that all this plastic gadgetry keep anyone out of anything? His brain was already formulating six ways past each ‘lock’. Then again he had long ago master the art of fine motor control and supporting his own head. It would be a while before the baby could do that. 

“Oh, you’ll want these,” she added several packages of rubber covers to put over the corners of tables. “As I was saying, you won’t really need most of this stuff until RJ starts crawling and pulling up on things, but you asked me for tips on baby-proofing and that’s what you’re going to get.”

“RJ?” Remy bypassed a display of magnetic drawer locks. _Should we be baby-proofing the X-Mansion too?_

“Well, you haven’t told anybody if you’re having a girl or boy yet and we’ve got to call the baby something....” 

He shrugged, acknowledging the fact. He and Roguey had simply taken to calling the baby _bébé_ , but it hadn’t taken on with the rest of their friends. “Mais, why RJ?” 

“For Rogue Junior, or Remy Junior. Obviously.” She rolled her eyes like she was explaining two plus two equalled four. 

He grinned. “I like it.” 

“Good, it’s yours. I mean, literally, the baby is yours. So are the names.” Jubilee laughed as nudged a stack of baby gates with her foot. “You’ll want those for the stairs and anywhere else you don’t want RJ to get into. But, don’t put them up until right before you need them, cause you’ll spend the rest of the time they’re up tripping over them.” 

“Vrainment?” Remy raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Jubilee hit her palm against her forehead. “Right. I forgot who I’m talking to. I bet you never trip. Lucky you.” 

Remy grabbed a couple of the gates and wedged them awkwardly into the cart. “What else do we nee?”

She tapped her chin as she scanned the remainder of the aisle. “Hmm, I think we’re done with the locks and stuff for now. Do you have carseats and strollers and all the big things?”

Remy nodded. He and Rogue had poured over reviews and safety ratings and had chosen the best products available. Tante Mattie would be coming up soon. If she deemed they were missing anything vital, Remy was certain she’d let his family know. The remnants of LeBeau clan and the worldwide network of Thieves had already begun showering the future prince or princess of Thieves with a plethora of expensive gifts. 

“All right, let’s move onto the fun stuff.” Jubilee rubbed her hands together with glee. 

“An’ dat would be?” 

“Clothes!” Jubilee tugged the front corner of the cart and led them into a maze of racks displaying the largest assortment of the tiniest clothes Gambit had ever seen. 

He meandered around the racks of baby clothes in a half-dazed state. His fingers trailed across myriads of outfits made of the softest material. Pausing beside a display of pajamas, he picked a set of three sleepers off the nearest hook. A pattern of playful kittens in muted orange, black and white gamboled across the footed pjs. The colored clip on the hanger declared the size as ‘newborn.’ He stared at the outfit. The clothes were so tiny. Impossibly so. 

Was it possible their baby would be this small? In a matter of months, he would be able to hold their child. If RJ was this small, he was certain he’d break the bébé.

“Hey, Gambit, breathe.” Jubilee removed the outfit from his hands and placed it in the cart. Then added another set a couple sizes larger.

It took several moments before Remy could find his breath again. He gave Jubilee a sheepish smile. “Désolé petite. It’s just....the bébé, they will be so tiny, so helpless. RJ’s whole world will depend on me—on us. What if I screw up?”

Jubilee rolled her eyes. “I think every parent feels that way. I mean, I definitely wasn’t ready for what it meant to be a parent when I took in Shogo and I didn’t even know him when he was this small. Sometimes I still worry I’ll mess things up. But, I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world. You do your best, you learn as you go, and you ask advice from people who’ve already been there. And, look at you, you’ve already mastered that last one.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Seriously Remy, you already love your baby and you want what’s best for them. You’re doing everything you can to be prepared. It’s obvious that RJ has two of the most loving, over protective parents in the world.”

“Over protective? Non. Dat’s not possible.” Remy eased as he fell into Jubilee’s easy banter. 

“It’s okay. I get it, really. We’re all X-Men. As a team, we have to admit, we don’t have the best record when it comes to children. It’s perfectly natural to worry. Just, also know, that the seriousness with which you’re taking your duties as a dad-to-be speaks well of you.”

‘T’anks, petite. I needed to hear that.” He ruffled Jubilee’s hair. 

~x~x~x~x~x~

“Sugah,” Rogue didn’t open her eyes. She rested her head on Remy’s shoulder while he wrapped an arm protectively around her. “Do you think we should have some names picked out?”

“What’s wrong with RJ? I think it has a nice ring to it?” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head so she knew he was teasing. 

Still, she elbowed him in the gut—it wasn’t hard, but enough to make him wince. “Ah’m serious. We can’t call her...him...bébé forever.”

“Désolé, chère.” He shifted on the couch trying to ease the pressure on his rapidly falling asleep arm while remaining a comfortable cushion for his wife. “Do ya have any suggestions?”

“Ah dunno.”

Remy ran his free-hand through her hair, eliciting a happy sigh from his wife. “If we want t’ stick with de RJ theme, how ‘bout Richard? Raoul? Rachel? Rebecca?”

“No to Rachel. There’s already a Rachel at the Mansion and things are confusing enough with her and Jean sharing code names half the time.” 

“D’accord.” Remy worried as his bottom lip as he gave the matter some more thought. “I like Rebecca.”

“‘Kay, though Ah’m not sold on continuing to call our baby RJ. There’s got to be other options.” Rogue fiddled with the links of the inhibitor bracelet she’d taken to wearing again. She didn’t technically need it when they were alone in their apartment, but she would rather be safe than sorry. After her initial, accidental absorption of him a couple of months ago, some sort of immunity had developed between them. Though it wasn’t the case with anyone else. Hank had hypothesized it had something to do with Rogue’s psyche recognizing the connection between the couple and saw him as an extension of her rather than another person to absorb. It made sense to Remy, since Roguey was already his heart and soul. 

After a few minutes of pondering options, Rogue broke the silence “What about naming the baby after family...”

Remy started, half sitting up as what felt like a bucket of ice water ran though his veins. “We ain’t calling her Raven. I know she’s your mère, but ‘m not calling my child after...”

“Shh, swamp rat, don’t worry. That was never on the table.” She pushed herself up and maneuvered herself around so she faced him. Catching his hand as he raked it through his hair, she held it between her gloved hands and rubbed small circles with her thumb. At her touch, he began to still. “What about Irene?”

Remy closed his eyes as he weighed the options. Eventually he opened his eyes and gave her a nod. “Dat’s fine. It’s a good name.” 

“Why don’t you grab some paper and we can start a list.” Rogue gave him a smile. “We don’t have to settle on final names now, but it would be nice to have a start.” 

“Oui.” He fell quiet again after a moment. “If de baby’s a boy, could we name him after mon frère? Henri.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Rogue agreed without hesitation. 

“Dat was fast.” Remy stood and headed to the desk to find a pad of paper. 

Rogue shrugged as she resettled herself. She yawned and closed her eyes. Stretching her legs, she perched them along the edge of the coffee table. “I barely got to meet your brother, but I know he’s important to you. Also, there’s a whole lot less baggage associated with him than my family. So, I don’t see a problem with naming our child in memory of him.” 

Remy nodded and claimed a seat in a nearby chair. He jotted down the names they already discussed. Looking up from the fledgling list, he smiled at the sight of Lucifer curled up beside his wife while she idly petted him. Figaro circled Remy’s legs before settling on top of his feet. “What else?”

“Mm. Not sure...Maybe some more non-family names too?”

Meanwhile, not to be left out, their black cat leapt on the back of the couch and settled near Rogue. His tailed flicked her in the head.

“Oliver!” She chastised, but made no effort to move. They were all too used to the cats’ antics to do more than offer a token protest.

Cheekily, Remy added the name to the list. “All right, but don’t you think dat might get confusing?”

“What’s confusing?” Rogue opened one eye and glared at her husband.

“Naming the bébé Oliver,” he said. 

“That’s the cat’s name sugah! We can’t call him that.”

“Nope, too late it’s already on the list. Do you think de boys might get jealous if we don’t add Figaro and Lucifer to the list too?”

“Remy, don’t make me come over there...” Rogue threatened. 

“All right, all right,” Remy crossed out the name. “We can call him Olivier.” 

Rogue rolled her eyes. “If ya ain’t going to take this seriously, I’m going to take a nap.” 

“Sounds like a good idea.” He feigned a yawn as he stood and moved to help her up. 

“Alone sug.” She moaned as she got to her feet. 

“Je t’aime,” he said as he wrapped her in a hug before she could escape. “Both if you.”

“I know. And I love ya too.” She melted into his embrace. “Sometimes, Ah feel like we won’t ever be ready. And the little one will be here before we know it.”

“We’ll figure it out, mon coeur. Together.” He leaned in to kiss her at the same moment she opened her mouth wide to yawn. Changing terectory he kissed her temple. “Rest well, mamour. I’ll have supper ready when you wake.”

“Thanks, swamp rat. You’re the best.” Rogue padded off to bed and closed the door behind her. 

~x~x~x~x~x~

Rogue sat at the dining room table as she waited for Remy to finish leading his Danger Room session. She wasn’t quite certain if she missed the vigorous training or not—most sessions managed to push even her to her limits. But, she was tired of feeling heavy and slow. There were days she’d give anything to be able to move about easily again. _If_ she had the energy. She sighed. If everything went according to plan, it would only be another month before they’d be able to meet their baby in person. And, she couldn’t wait. 

Well, she could wait. She would wait. Even with all the discomfort, she wanted to carry the baby to term. 

“Will you be joining us for lunch?” Hank asked as he set a stack of plates on the counter. 

Rogue checked her watch. Remy’s training session was lasting longer than planned, though that wasn’t much of a surprise. He’d been doubling up on his teaching sessions, trying to get as much as possible covered before the baby was born. “Yeah. If ya don’t mind.” 

“It isn’t a problem,” Hank assured her. “You know how it goes, we always make more than enough to feed everyone here.” 

“Do you need any help?” Rogue offered, though her feet were killing her and she really didn’t want to stand. She started to gather her notebooks and lesson plans scattered across the table. Remy’s classes might be going long, but she felt like her classes were running shorter than normal. She was down to teaching one class now and even that one would be completed in the next couple of weeks. After that she’d take a break from teaching while she was on maternity leave.

“I’ve got this covered. You can keep working.” Hank returned to the kitchen, humming to himself. 

Rogue rubbed her temples and returned to her plans, getting lost in the minutia of grading papers and making notes. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” The familiar arms of her husband wrapped around her shouldered. She leaned backed in time to receive a kiss. “Looks like lunch is about ready.”

Rogue pulled off her headphones and realized the room had filled while she worked. This time she began gathering her papers in earnest. 

“You certainly look good enough to eat, sug.” Rogue grinned at Remy. Her gaze lingered on her husband. After his Danger Room session, he’d showered and changed. His hair was still slightly damp and tosseled after his shower. However had she managed to marry such a good looking man? Even after all these years of marriage she couldn’t resist him. His smirk was all she needed to know he knew what she was thinking and he returned sentiments—though with her as the object of his affection. 

“Get a room,” Jubilee said in jest as as she entered the dining room with a full plate. The young woman had certainly grown up over the course of their friendship. Rogue couldn’t help but grin at the memory of Jubilee’s reaction of disgust to Gambit’s pursuit of Rogue back in the early days when he was new to the team. Rogue moaned as her memory turned to _that game_. She couldn’t play basketball in her present state, but she certainly wouldn’t say no to a kiss from the love of her life. Even back then she’d wanted that kiss, she’d only refused because she hadn’t thought such intimacies would ever be possible. She chose to deny herself, rather than take a leap of faith. 

“They already did,” Bobby added. “Or, how else did you think Rogue ended up in that state?” 

Rogue blushed. While it was definitely no secret she enjoyed the physical delights of her husband, talking about it outright in front of their friends and teammates still caused her to blush. 

“Don’t necessarily need a room...” Remy drawled. 

“Swamp rat!” She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him before he could expound on the story. “Remember what we said about boundaries.” 

“Oui,” He gave her a cheeky wink, which said he was after the kiss all along. “Guess you’ll just have to punish me later.” 

“You can start now by bringing me lunch.” It wasn’t much of a punishment, since he was already doing everything possible to make her pregnancy as easy as possible. On the other hand, any further _punishment_ would simply need to wait. 

“Your every wish is my command.” Remy kissed the back of her hand before disappearing into the kitchen and leaving Rogue as the sole focus of the others. At least they were used to the flirting by now. She was glad they had all moved beyond the days when everyone assumed Remy’s only plans were to hurt her. Most of them never knew just how wrong they were. 

“Rogue, is there anything we can do to help you prepare before the baby arrives?” Ororo interrupted Rogue’s wandering thoughts and directed the conversation back to safer subjects. 

“Um, Ah can’t really think of anything at the moment. The apartment is baby-proofed. The nursery is decorated. Remy has more meals stocked up in the freezer than we can reasonably eat over the next few months. And my lesson plans are almost completed.” Rogue tapped the end of her red pen against the table. “Ah suppose if someone wanted to finish grading my papers, Ah wouldn’t say no.” 

A chorus of groans circled the table and Rogue laughed. “Didn’t think so. ‘Ro, Ah promise, if we think of anything, we’ll be certain to to let you know.”

“Please do.” Ororo smiled warmly at the younger woman. “We are all excited about your little one and want to help in any way we can.”

With that, the discussion shifted towards the minutia of running the school and who would be covering Rogue’s classes. The general conversation soon broke up into small groups. It wasn’t long before Remy returned with two plates of food and joined Rogue and Ororo at the table. As they ate, Remy regaled them with tales of a recent heist he ‘just happened to hear about.’ 

About halfway through the meal, the majority of conversations fell into a lull at the same moment, allowing Scott’s private conversation with to become an unfortunate public pronouncement. “I doubt they’ll last six months before it gets them too.” 

An unnatural silence fell over the table. The majority of the diners hadn’t caught the context of his comment, but no one missed the caustic bitterness biting at the words. Seeking an explanation, every eye turned to the far end of the table where Scott sat in a position of prominence. He took a bite of his sandwich like he didn’t noticed he was now the center of attention.

Bobby cleared his throat. “Um, Scott, what are you talking about?” 

“The X-Men curse,” Scott replied cooly. 

“What curse?” Remy’s eyes narrowed as he focused on Scott. 

To his credit, Scott only wilted slightly under the intense red on black state. “You know, the one that seems to affect all the kids of X-team members. They all seem to get lost in time, or show up fully grown, or die or something....”

Around the table, an uneasy murmuring as everyone began talking at once. Some demanded explanations, others protested the inappropriate nature of the conversation. A few wanted to know if the parents-to-be had made plans. Jubilee’s voice could be heard over the others, “But, Shogo is just fine....” 

Meanwhile, Rogue stopped listening. Her lunch rebelled in her stomach in a way it hadn’t since her days of morning sickness. She clutched Remy’s hand and fought to calm her racing heart. It felt like her lungs were turning inside out as she couldn’t catch her breath.

“Roguey?” Remy fixed his smoldering red eyes on his wife. In the growing chaos, he was the only one to notice her growing pallor and shaking hands. 

“Oh, come on, you were all thinking it. There’s no way that the two of them”—Scott waved in an off-handed gesture at Rogue and Gambit—“will do better than us at avoiding the curse.” 

Her head spun and her vision blurred. What if Scott was right? Since discovering she was pregnant, Rogue knew this question was coming. She and Remy hadn’t discussed the matter outright, for fear that once spoken it was all the more likely to happen. But, they had made oblique ‘what if’ plans. No matter how hard they tried to plan for every contingency, she was certain they failed to cover all potential disasters. It was impossible to discern every scenario where things might go awry. And they still didn’t have an answer to guarantee their baby’s safety. Her head swam, her ribs constricted around her chest and oxygen refused to fill her lungs. _What if they were failures before they even had the opportunity to prove themselves?_

Scott’s cold voice echoed in her ears as the light in the dining room dimmed, then went black. At last, blissful silence filled the room. 

~x~x~x~x~x~

When Rogue could breathe again, she was no longer in the dining room. Instead, she was in the infirmary hooked up to a myriad of machines. Remy sat beside her. The hand not holding hers was covered with an ice pack. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” She eased as she heard the sound of two heart monitors. One the steady beat of an adult heart, the second the much more rapid flutter of her unborn infant. 

“I’ll be find. I did de t’ing we’re always tellin’ the students not to do and punched Cyclops in the face.”

“Swamp rat!” 

Remy flushed. He flexed the fingers of his injured hand. “Sorry chère, I over reacted when you blacked out. While Hank carried you down here, I punched Scott in the face. He has a hard head.” 

“And no tact.” Rogue agreed. She kind of wished she was the one to punch him in the face. 

“D’accord.” Remy nodded solemnly “T’ough he does have a point. De X-Men don’t have a good record of keepin’ our enfants safe.” 

Rogue sighed. “Ah know. But, Ah’m not sure what else we can do. It’s not like anybody planned for well....any of those catastrophes to happen.”

“Shogo managed to make it through infant- and toddler-hood relatively unscathed.” The ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “Awhile back, Jubilee called us over-protective.” 

“So, between Jubilee’s vote of confidence and Shogo’s safety, maybe that means things are looking up.” Rogue closed her eyes and listened to the soothing rhythm of the heart monitors. “Doesn’t mean we should be any less vigilant.” 

“O’ course not. It’s not like de only threats to our bébé will come from the X-Men side of our life.” He brushed back the loose strands of hair halo-ing her face. His fingers were warm and dry against her clammy skin. Her powers prickled to the surface, lapping at his touch, but not taking hold. 

“That’s right Cajun. We’re gonna to everything in the realm of possibility to keep our baby safe. ‘Sides, we have something Scott will never have—complete devotion to each other and a dedication to keep our family safe.” 

Remy nodded. He might be a man of two worlds, but he had no doubts where his loyalties lay.

She scootched over, leaving an open space on the bed. “Join me ‘til Hank kicks us out.” 

Remy grinned and laid on his side between her and the edge of the bed. He leaned in so his breath tickled her ear. “This might not be what Jubilee was referring to, but this technically is a room.”

“Shut up, swamp rat.” And Rogue stopped his mouth with a kiss. 

~x~x~x~x~x~

Kurt paced outside the infirmary. Rogue, Gambit, Hank, and a formidable woman who’d been introduced to everyone a few days ago as Tante Mattie had been holed up inside the medlab for the last twenty-four hours. From time to time others had joined him in his hallway vigil, most only stopping by for an update before returning to their business. Only Jean-Luc and Mercy—more new arrivals who had come with Tante Mattie—remained with Kurt for the duration of the wait. Storm and Logan came by frequently, often bringing food or offering to remain in the family’s place as they sought rest. Even with promises to contact them if anything changed, neither Kurt nor Gambit’s family stayed away for long. 

Time passed slowly as they waited for news. Occasionally Hank would appear at the door with an update. With each subsequent report, he appeared more drawn and weary. Once her labor had started, Rogue’s control over her powers had slipped again. The inhibitors were not quite strong enough to completely block the ill effects of her absorption. Only Remy appeared immune. The rest of the infirmary was limited to necessary personnel only. 

“How is Rogue doing?” Storm asked as she once more joined the vigil. She brought mugs of coffee with her for the waiting LeBeaus and Kurt. 

“Ich weiß nicht.” Kurt shrugged and looked at his watch. “Hank came out about an hour ago, saying he thought the blessed event would be soon. But I’m beginning to fear I don’t know what ‘soon’ means anymore.” 

“Baby’s take their own time.” Mercy said as she sipped at the coffee. “Especially the first born. Don’t worry, Tante knows what she’s doing.” 

Jean-Luc placed a hand on Mercy’s shoulder as he seconded his daughter-in-law’s statement. “Mattie helped deliver Henri, it’s only fitting she’s there for the next generation of LeBeaus.” 

Logan meandered up to the gathering. “Is it time yet?” 

“Nein,” Kurt started to say when the door of the med-lap opened. 

This time, instead of revealing a haggard Dr. McCoy, Tante Mattie stood in the doorway, a smile on her face. She made a brief examination of the small gathering and nodded. “Bon. You’re all here.”

“Mattie, don’t keep us waiting. Do I get to meet my petit-bébé yet?” Jean-Luc set aside his coffee as he crossed the hallway to peer over Mattie’s shoulder. 

“Hold your horses, Jean-Luc, give les enfants a moment to catch their breath before ya go barging in.” Tante Mattie lightly cuffed Gambit’s father. “Oui, de bébé has arrived. Rogue and Remy are willing to let y’all visit for a few moments, den you’re all gonna leave and let them rest before a longer visit. Understand?” 

She met the eyes of each of the waiting ensemble. Even Logan quelled under her steely gaze. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Kurt agreed as he felt the intensity of her gaze land on him. 

Moving aside, she allowed them inside the room. Jean-Luc entered first with Kurt and Mercy following close behind. Though Rogue appeared beyond exhausted, she practically glowed as she held the small blanket wrapped infant. Remy’s smile was no less bright as he wiped strands of white hair away from his wife’s forehead and gazed adoringly down at his daughter. 

As the commotion at the doorway grew, Remy looked up. He gestured them closer. Kurt couldn’t believe just how tiny the baby was. And while there had never been any doubt, there was no questioning her parentage. The fine strands of auburn hair became white where it bordered her face. And when she opened her eyes, they were a familiar red on black. 

“She’s beautiful,” Kurt whispered in awe. 

“Thank ya sugah,” Rogue beamed. She glanced up at Remy. “Ya want to do the honors and introduce her to our family.” 

“Oui, mon coeur.” The proud papa held his newborn daughter like he was a natural at this and showed her to the gathered family and friends as close as family. “I’d like to introduce y’all to our daughter, Irene Mattie LeBeau.”


End file.
